


the words between I and you

by tsuristyle



Category: SMAP
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-10 20:54:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8938915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsuristyle/pseuds/tsuristyle
Summary: Kimura kisses him again, just once, and they lie silently in the dark until Nakai's heartbeat slows and he feels like a chicken. But Kimura's hand stays on his chest, heavy, warm, rising and falling with his breath, like maybe there's something worth holding there--
(Warmth and words and waking up. Written October 2013.)





	

The vibration of a phone wakes him, muffled soft and almost ignorable under the covers somewhere. They're not familiar covers but that doesn't bother Nakai; he remembers where he is in the time it takes to shift his foot against the mattress so when he opens his eyes to see Kimura next to him it isn't a surprise.  
  
It's-- he's not sure which of all the things that pass through him in that second it is.  
  
Kimura is asleep on his side, still facing him, the blanket slipping down past his shoulder to the edge of his t-shirt sleeve. The t-shirt he's still wearing, just like the shirt and pants and everything Nakai is still wearing. A lock of hair threatens to fall over his face and Nakai wonders what it would be like to brush it back, or if he would even have that much courage.  
  
The phone buzzes. Is it his? This is a problem with advertising for a phone company; their phones all sound the same on vibrate. Nakai fumbles under the covers, it probably slipped out of his or Kimura's pocket last night but when he reaches between them his fingers suddenly brush warm skin, Kimura's hand curled loose on the sheets where it must have slid off--  
  
 _Kimura reaches for Nakai's shirt, pulling roughly at the shoulders, and Nakai told himself he wasn't going to hesitate but his body stiffens for an instant, and that tiny resistance makes Kimura stop. Nakai thinks of pushing him away or getting off the bed or even wrapping his legs around Kimura and urging him on, anything to hide what he might reveal before Kimura can see it, but then Kimura is looking at him and Nakai can't do anything but look right back. He's not afraid, dammit, just_ I don't know what to do _and_ what if I don't like it _and_ don't tell me what to do _and a thousand words that can't, won't make their way from his heart to his tongue, not when Kimura might hear them.  
  
Nakai feels the rush of _take _relax from his bandmate's fingertips. Kimura kisses him again, just once, and they lie silently in the dark until Nakai's heartbeat slows and he feels like a chicken. But Kimura's hand stays on his chest, heavy, warm, rising and falling with his breath, like maybe there's something worth holding there--_  
  
The phone buzzes again, and Nakai's fingers find it this time. It isn't Nakai's, though; it's Kimura's, and Kimura is still asleep.  
  
He could leave, he thinks, and keep all his words inside him. But then he's looking at Kimura again, and no, Kimura isn't asleep, his breath is short and the corner of his mouth moves faintly and his eyelashes twitch, and Nakai doesn't know how he could ever have thought that all the tiny motions of someone waking up couldn't be beautiful.  
  
Kimura opens his eyes. They stare at each other, breath helplessly tight in Nakai's chest, and then Kimura's gaze slides to the still-buzzing object in Nakai's hand, eyebrows pinching slightly in confusion.  
  
"Phone," Nakai explains hoarsely, offering it. Their fingers brush again.  
  
Nakai watches Kimura squint at the screen. He should look away. It doesn't _feel_ like there's anything of worth inside him. Would Kimura even listen anyway?  
  
Maybe that's why he can't say anything. Of all the words that fit between the _I_ and _you_ of this, maybe the one he has the most trouble with isn't _love_ but _trust_.  
  
Kimura turns the phone off in mid-buzz and leans over Nakai to drop it onto the side table. He looks down at Nakai as he sits back, like he's thinking about kissing him, like he's thinking about a lot more than just kissing him and he isn't used to holding back but he will for this, for _this_ \-- "Okay?"  
  
\--and it occurs to Nakai that Kimura is already listening, as hard as he can across the distance between them.  
  
He reaches up, warmth flooding his fingertips as he clutches Kimura's shoulder, and pulls him in. Kimura all but falls into the kiss, lips and tongue and his arm stretching across Nakai's chest, and when they break apart the corners of his mouth curve and he rests his head in the crook of Nakai's neck with a long sigh. His hair falls forward over his shoulder, the one Nakai is still holding, and Nakai still feels like a chicken but Kimura is closer now, close enough to hear him practically before he even forms the word on his lips.  
  
"Yeah," he says, brushing Kimura's hair back. There's still too much more to say but it's one word, one word closer.


End file.
